


[Untilted Work 001]

by fritz_winky



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, light slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fritz_winky/pseuds/fritz_winky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki becomes enamored by a young Fandral, and over the years their relationship grows.  A bit of mindless fluff in two short parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	[Untilted Work 001]

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a dear friend's birthday, the Loki to my Fandral, the most lovely of all people. <3

The taverns in Asgard are always full. The soldiers are always thirsty, the laborers looking to wind down, the young maids looking to flirt and find a sturdy husband. The mead is always flowing, the fires crackling, the sounds of laughter and the occasional brawl carrying through the streets. Taverns are the places to be as night falls.

In the back of one such tavern always sits the young prince Thor. A solid warrior in his own right, Thor’s more comfortable amidst the crowds than the adorned halls of the palace. He has much to learn, still, his fighting ruled still by impulse and little by strategy, but this is why he has his friend Volstagg. Volstagg, a mighty man, revered by his colleagues and the elite of Asgard. Through his mentorship of the young prince, he has become the thunder god’s closest friend – well, closest, after the other prince, Loki, for a blood brother’s bond is always the strongest.

In fact, it is young and quiet Loki that brings them here on this night. It’s been his first quest with his brother and mighty Volstagg, In fact, if it had not been for Loki’s quick wits under pressure, they would likely be in the infirmary and not sharing mugs of ale. Though it’s all a bit too loud for the black-haired prince, who prefers to observe. But he can learn. He’s a quick study.

From his place next to Thor, something catches Loki’s eyes. He turns to look and sees a young Asgardian, perhaps Thor’s age or so, blond hair as well but shorter in style. He’s got a physique befitting any godling, to be sure – slim, but athletic, muscles showing through his green and gold tunic. Loki immediately enjoys the color palette. But he hears Volstagg snort, and hears Thor’s soft laugh.

“What do you think, Volstagg, of this youth? Fandral is his name, no?”

“Fandral the Fair, yes,” though there’s little admiration in Volstagg’s voice. “He’s a junior in the ranks, something of a loud-mouth, and arrogant.”

“And what is a warrior without his arrogance?” asks Thor, laughing more heartily.

“A warrior must earn his arrogance.” Volstagg gruffs. He takes a drink of ale, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I hear he’s quite a talent with a blade.”

And, indeed, it’s Fandral’s recounting of his master swordsmanship that’s attracted the attention of the tavern. Loki’s not sure he’s ever heard the young man’s name, but he’s certain he won’t forget it. There’s something captivating about the way this Fandral weaves a story. Loki can hardly hear the words, but it seems to hardly matter. The tavern erupts in applause and cheers, Fandral bows, the girls flock to him. He takes their praise in turn. The picture of a gentleman, Loki thinks, and then Fandral’s eyes catch his own and Loki’s given a bright smile. It makes him blush and look away.  


Fortunately, Thor hasn’t noticed, but the ever keen eye of Volstagg catches it, though he keeps his mouth closed. For once.

\---

Loki becomes more interested in joining Thor on his adventures. His fighting improves, though he still relies on his cunning more than his fists, and he ever hopes that they’ll return to the same tavern. They do, sometimes, though Loki never sees Fandral. How frustrating.

He’s currently lamenting this fact as he trudges down to meet Thor in the training arena. With the elder prince currently sparring, the younger takes a seat to watch, though he feels his heart skip a bit. Beyond the fight between Thor and the lady Sif, there is Fandral, fresh from a fight of his own. For fear of being caught watching, Loki ducks behind a book he’s brought to pass the time. When he peeks over the edge, Fandral is gone, and Loki feels a touch of disappointment.

“I’ve never seen one read in the training arena.”

It’s a smooth, bright voice that cuts Loki’s thoughts, as the book is plucked from his hands. When the young prince looks up, he’s struck shockingly speechless. Fandral, it appears, can be stealthy. And much more dazzling up close.

“One must pass the time somehow,” Loki says, remembering his place as Asgardian royalty. He puts on his usual, haughty tone, reaching to grab back his book. Unsuccessfully. “I don’t think that’s yours.”

“Surely a prince of Asgard is suited to the ring.”

“You’ll remember who you speak to.”

“Of course. My sincerest apologies.” Though Fandral’s smirk suggests insincerity even as he offers Loki a sweeping bow. He returns the book as the booming voice of Thor comes over them.

“Brother! You’re making friends! I find this pleasing.”

\---

The years pass, centuries turning as the young Asgardians age and grow and learn. Volstagg still finds Fandral to be a loudmouth, but most do, and for the most part it’s simply joking. Loki doesn’t come on adventures anymore. It turns out he’s not well suited to it (and Thor’s friends don’t much care for him anymore), but that’s all right. Loki has something to look forward to, though, when the others leave, and that’s the return.

Mostly Fandral’s return.

A tradition’s sprung up, it seems, since their meeting so long ago. Fandral has taken it upon himself to grace Loki with souvenirs of epic battles. Most of them have been tossed out, but Loki keeps the nicer ones. It’s very nice, he thinks, to know that half of the nine realms pine for Fandral the Dashing, and Loki is the one receiving the tokens.

However, the Warriors Three have been returned for almost two days, and Loki’s seen nothing of his swashbuckling rogue. In a huff, he storms down to the arena to demand some sort of explanation from Thor.

“Haven’t we discussed reading in the training ring?” Fandral takes the book from Loki’s hand as Loki passes him in the palace. He looks amused, but his face falls at Loki’s stoic expression.

“I can’t imagine why you’d care.” Loki watches Fandral with a wary eye. He knows that the other Asgardian has dalliances, and he wonders if that’s what’s kept them apart. “Certainly you’ve something better to do.”

“Oh, hush now,” the blond tuts. He takes Loki by the hand, laughing, pulling him close. “You’re far too suspicious. Such a shame I find it entirely endearing. Before you wonder what pretty thing I’ve been off with, it’s been Volstagg. The old fool got himself a broken arm. Amazing, all that girth and he falls on the part that isn’t cushioned.”

“Ah.” Well, Loki feels foolish. It’s unfair, truly, how Fandral can do this to him. He clears his throat, then cracks a smile. “But surely brave Fandral was there to save the day?”

“The very same.” Fandral pulls Loki against him, brushing their lips together. “And I’ve brought you the most fantastic of gifts, but I think it can wait for now.”

Loki smirks, but nudges their noses together, nudging Fandral into the shadows.

“I think I can wait a bit longer.”


End file.
